7 Crows

Chapter Ten | 09:24

Chapter Ten

09:24 am. New Year's day.

Jacques stiffened like he got tasered by Loxley's words.

They sat knee deep in the stunned silence that he, after composing his features into deadpan and clearing his throat, was the first to break. "I'm not a murderer." Jacques softly, almost wistfully, said.

"Your record states otherwise." Loxley countered. Her hand reached over to the left side of the table, grabbing the manila folder that laid undisturbed since the previous interrogation. She opened the folder and pulled out two sheets of paper, slipping it towards his eyeline. 

It was a copy of his criminal record and a newspaper article of a local paper that covered the incident.

"Well, I did some background check on you," Loxley stated, watching the man wipe a hand down his face and over his salt and pepper beard as he exhaled deeply. "It states on here that you were released on license having served half of your actual sentence for manslaughter," she gestured with her eyes to the printout, "for killing your wife." She finished, her gaze lazed over the platinum ring resting over his chest before locking on Jacques' tormented stare.

"It was an accident." Jacques insisted, his voice lowered to barely above a phelgamy whisper and ended in a turbulence.

"Is that why you still hang onto the wedding ring?" Loxley quipped and Jacques' gaze fell on the ring for a good second before looking back at her. "A symbolic memento of the person who's not in your life anymore that you're unwilling to let go. But, you can't will yourself to wear the ring either because it's tainted and deep down you know you killed her."

Loxley noticed Jacques clenching his jaw, trying to quell the rising heat. But, the man didn't radiate heat instead there was a coldness. What's an anger without it's raging flames? Guilt.

"There is nothing you can say to me that's worse than what I've told myself." Jacques swallowed the last smoldering bit of fury and his shoulders weighed down. "So, what are you proving by bringing up my record?" He managed to keep his tone composed. 

"A leopard can't change its spots, Jacques."

"What?"

"For a comfortably off person, what are you doing in a run-down motel?" Loxley thought out loud. She leaped up from her chair and started to circle the table, evaluating him. "As Niven puts it, you're more like a resident at Seven Crows."

"What's your point?"

"My point is..." Loxley came to standstill in front of Jacques after completing a full circumference around the table, "your wife's murder might've been an accidental act but murdering that man was a volitional act."

At first, Jacques appeared confused, then his ears reddened and veins swelled on his temples. "What the bloody arse are you talking about!"

"Simple," Loxley planted her palms on the table, leaning forward until her sphinx-like eyes levelled with his fiery, cold eyes. "You couldn't forget the first taste of killing someone and you were desperate for more."

"Bollocks!" Jacques stood up, kicking the chair behind him and slamming his palms against the table.

Just then, the maple door swung open. Loxley turned around, encountering the pair of dark-brown eyes. Detective Ebony. Her lips parted as if to speak, but all they formed was a silent shape.

Ebony's eyes darted between them, before he cleared his throat and averted his head just enough to speak over his shoulder, "Officer Malek, could you please escort Mr. Spearman out of the room?"